Title: Joining Forces
Fandom: MCU
Rating: somewhere between Mature and Explicit
Length: ~1000 words
Content notes: it's a mafia AU, so there is a reference to an off-screen murder
Author notes: also fits squares from 3 bingo cards. the squares are: age difference, mafia AU, and ropes. one of the few times i've written superhero characters who aren't heroes and don't have their powers. it's an AU - everyone is of-age.
Summary: Tony and Peter, a pair of mafia big wigs, have a discussion that becomes more than a discussion

Tony leaned back in his chair, ankle propped on opposite knee. This was a joke, right? This baby could not be the head of a crime family. Much less one of the most successful ones in the city. If this was a joke, at least Tony would have a bit of fun laughing, then getting rid of the guy.

The young man in a finely tailored suit, walked into the room and was not intimidated in any way by Tony's demeanor or presence. That was impressive.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Parker?" Tony asked, tapping his fingers against his knee.

Parker completed his walk across the room and dropped a heavy package on the floor in front of Tony. It landed with a soft thunk.

"What's this?" Tony asked, nodding toward the item on the floor. It wasn't unusual for him to be brought gifts, but this seemed a little out of place.

"Your enforcer," Parker said flatly. Unrattled. Confident.

Tony frowned. "My enforcer's what."

Parker shook his head, a clear indication that Tony had missed something. "It's your enforcer." The man was quiet for a beat, then added, "I caught him in my office. Where he wasn't supposed to be. He was very forthcoming when asked about your organization, Mr. Stark."

Tony peered down at the box again, then let his gaze shift back to Parker. "If he was that shitty at his job, he's right where he belongs." He had no need for anyone who would give up so quickly and easily. He'd apparently also need to improve his screening process. "But you didn't need to come all the way out here to tell me that."

"No, I didn't," Parker agreed. "I wanted to see if the man matched the legend."

Tony held his hands up in a 'well do I?' gesture.

Parker's face didn't change. "The ego does for sure."

"That's a given, kid. Which, let me ask, how the hell does someone your age move to the top of an organization?"

Parker wasn't flustered in the least. "Why are you asking questions you already know the answers to?"

Tony liked this guy. He probably shouldn't, but he was intriguing. "We should eat," he suggested. It would let him interrogate the young man in a less formal setting that, on the surface, would feel neutral.

"Are you asking me out?" This time an eyebrow went up.

"No." Tony rose from his chair, ignoring the package on the floor, and started toward the door. It let him get a good look at the slender figure filling out that dark suit. "Come on. I know a great place we can go where no one will interrupt."

---

That was how Tony ended up tied to the bed, naked, begging for the young man to fuck him. While it may not have been his original intention, he definitely shifted the conversation in this direction with several pointed questions. So, clearly, he had gotten himself into this mess all on his own.

One day he would learn to keep his damned mouth shut.

Who was he kidding? He hadn't learned that lesson yet; there was little chance of it changing in the future.

He groaned again in frustration. Fruitless though it would be. Parker had bound him to the bed over an hour ago and hadn't so much as touched him after he'd finished tying the last knot.

"All in good time," Parker said. "You'll get what you want."

Parker had said that about eleven times already. Tony was still waiting.

He turned his hands over in the rope bindings, gripping the headboard. He rubbed his chin against his arm, chasing an itch. What the hell could Parker possibly be doing back there? Tony was hard and almost uncomfortable laying face-down on the bed. He was two steps from rubbing himself off on the covers.

"I know I have a collection of lube, but they're all sufficient for the task at hand. You don't need to do a thorough analysis," Tony grumbled.

Parker flicked a finger against the back of Tony's thigh and even that brief touch made Tony's skin ripple with goosebumps. "You saw what I did do your enforcer. Do you really want to test my patience?"

Fuck, that was hot. Danger had never been something Tony shied away from. It was one of the things his father had never condoned about how he handled the business. Fuck him. He was gone and Tony was in charge now.

Of the business. Not his current predicament. That was part of the appeal.

"To be honest? I've never been great at not pushing my luck. So, yeah, kinda."

Parker didn't say anything for several long moments. Then he asked, "Which of these is your favorite?"

"Depends what you're using it for." For once Tony wasn't being a snarky ass, though it probably came out that way in his frustration and pent up need.

"Is that not obvious?"

Fuck. "If you're planing to fuck me, the one in the blue bottle. For jerking off, the red one. If I'm fucking someone, either the blue again or the orange. But, like I said, they'll all get the job done."

"Fair enough," Parker said, nonchalant and infuriating. "I didn't really care anyway. I just wanted to make you wait longer."

Tony groaned with impatience. He knew that. Knew it. And yet he couldn't help answering the damned lube question anyway. Fuck.

The bed shifted and dipped behind him, then he felt a full set of strong fingers jerk his hips up until he was on his knees, his face still pressed into the mattress. He could tell he was going to enjoy the hell out of this. If Parker would just get on with it already.